I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since I last wrote a blog post. It’s been an incredibly crazy three weeks and I’m actually starting to twitch at my lack of social interaction with my blogging community. Are you still there? I’m scared to look. I hope so.
Frequent readers will know I spend most of my time on this blog doing one of two things. I am either helpful and proactive and full of marvellous ways to improve your health and wellbeing, or full of sarcasm, cynicism and pain as I struggle to cope with the madness of daily life as a chronic pain sufferer.
So let’s see where we end up today.
These past few weeks have included some of the best days of my life – and also some of the most frustrating.
I have started a new job – the most demanding of my career so far, but without a doubt the most instantly enjoyable and rewarding as well. I now work in the rail industry which is something pretty special for a train-lover like myself.
R and I have moved out of our teeny tiny London flat and now live in a cottage in the countryside with more space and silence than I know what to do with. It was a decision that we eventually made after two years of talking about it and, thankfully, we wholeheartedly love it. This city girl is now embracing the mud and the dark, and it’s wonderful. And just to add to the twee rail love, our new house is called Railway Cottage. It’s like I planned it.
Finally, I ate the best apple crumble of my life this week. And that apple crumble was made by R in our brand new kitchen which I love more than any kitchen I’ve ever seen. Totally winning at life right now.
But, we can’t have it all as well we know, so just to keep me in check and stop me from being too cocky, BT came along and ruined the beautiful sense of calm in our idyllic little cottage. They sold us WiFi 11 days ago and then they ballsed up and turned on next door’s WiFi instead of ours. This would be frustrating enough in the middle of the capital, but when you live in the middle of nowhere and have no phone signal, this spells disaster. In 11 days we have spoken to 12 customer service people who said they’d call us back – one of whom actually did – and it’s still not fixed.
But, I promised myself this wouldn’t be a blog post about the abysmal customer service, the shocking lack of care and the horrific communication from BT, so I’ll stop there.
Sadly my frustrations do not end with BT. Our beautiful zen country vibes were also ruined by a sofa saga that now includes one new sofa sat outside because it doesn’t fit in the house and two new sofas being delivered on Wednesday – only one of which I actually want.
Sigh. So there you have it – the good and the bad.
As for the ugly, well, that would be me. On top of the normal logistical nightmare of house moving comes the added difficulty of fibromyalgia. Moving house is one of the most physically draining and mentally stressful things you can do – the perfect ingredients for a flare up. It’s fair to say my exhaustion has reached new heights but, in general, I’m pretty proud of this old bod. It’s had a lot to cope with over the last few weeks and it’s done me proud. I can’t really style my hair or sort my face out or shave my legs or do anything that requires any effort, but I can get up and go to work and come home and unpack and right now, that’s all I’m after. With a bit more blogging on the side.